


Sing Your Own Song

by Nemamka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 2016 Figure Skating season, Alternate Universe - Twitch Streamers, Canon Compliant, DJ Otabek Altin, Fluff, I have no idea if Otabek is OOC or not, I headcanon him with this character development, Long haired Otabek Altin, M/M, Manbun Otabek, Otabek has hockey player friends, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Pre-Slash, Twitch - Freeform, positive influence otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 21:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10228178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemamka/pseuds/Nemamka
Summary: Otabek is a twitch streamer/music broadcaster (inspired by monstercat, but like, solo; and gameplay channels) who has a one-hour talkshow every morning.Yuri watches his channel aaand has no clue who he actually is.THIS IS NOT AN AU! They are both still figure skaters too!





	

“Hello there… uuumm, hi everyone, so. So, good morning, this is um, DarkHorseofSamarqand, and um… I’m really not good at this but… so many of you have been demanding some kind of… talking, getting to know me thing that… uh, here I am? Haha, hi there, wow, the chat is going crazy… What am I drinking? What kind of question is that, it’s 6 AM. It’s coffee.” 

Yuri Plisetsky sat up in his bed and scratched his ear where his headphone had pressed into it, then put the pad piece back correctly. His phone was still in his hand; he must have fallen asleep listening to the music channel he’d found after he had gotten bored of the gameplay he had been following deep into the night. They were just after Worlds, he had no training in the morning, and it was the new Doom Multiplayer Beta. He deserved some pure entertainment sooo much for having Viktor Fucking Nikiforov bore him to death with his fifth fucking gold medal, making everyone in the world forget his Junior gold from just two weeks ago. _Stammi Vicino my ass, Stammi The Fuck Downo, bitch, I’m coming for that senior gold, you’re. so. boring._

But the music had ended and there was someone talking, well, mumbling in English, with a slight, somehow familiar accent, and Yuri woke, confused and drowsy. He yawned, stretched his arms and legs, and unlocked the screen. What 6 AM? It was 3. Oh, right, chances are the guy’s not Russian. 

“… so I thought maybe we could do this, like, every morning? If you’re interested, I have no idea what I could talk about at the moment, I’m not that… interesting, I just make music, but… oh, okay, o… you guys… okay. Oh, that’s a good idea, yeah, so… if you have a topic suggestion we can discuss that. Right. Okay so umm… hmm. I’ll make a forum? How’s that? So we can track what we’ve covered and pin the theme for the day. Alright I’ll do it by tomorrow, today is, uh… introduction time, I guess?” 

Yuri squinted at the guy nervously smiling up into the camera, with the tiniest laughter, just a scoff really, and he decided to hit up Twitch on his laptop instead. He wanted to see better what kind of headphones he was wearing, and using the chatroom on phone screen would have been a struggle. He slid off the sheets, pushed the on button on his machine, and sneaked out to the kitchen for a snack, still listening.

“… already demanding the music back, okay, should I go? … OKAY, just kidding, gee, make up your minds. So. This is how it will be. Every morning we just talk for one hour, is that fine with everyone? Ooh, thank you NeveraShade for subscribing for your twelfth month, cool! So, where was I… Oh okay, so one hour every morning, and before and after it’s still. just. music. Okay? If you get bored of my face, we’ll switch back to 24/7...”

He sat down at his desk with a few of his grandpa’s cookies, closed the app on his phone when the site loaded in his browser, and quickly plugged his headphones in the other device. 

He couldn’t figure out the brand of the headphones; instead, he noticed other things. The streamer looked young in spite of his face being very square and masculine. His eyes were brown and his hair was quite long and thick: he wore it all brushed to one side, so his undercut was showing. Yuri decided he looked pretty cool, and he broadcasted great music, so since he had woken Yuri up with his uncertain voice, why not find out some stuff about him. Apparently this was his first time being _live_ live anyway. 

“… way I can also practice my English at least. Why so early? Hah, because… I still have school. I’d rather get up, talk to you guys a bit, then get ready for the day… I mean, you did ask for a _morning_ talk show. Hah, about me? Oh, right, yeah, introduction…” 

DarkHorse kept talking, visibly awkward in front of the camera; he hardly ever looked up from reading the chat and kept fumbling with his mug and spoon in front of him.

School, huh? They couldn’t be so far in age then. And he was already a popular music broadcaster, judging from his three hundred thousand followers and seven million total views. Oh well, and Yuri was a Junior World Champion in figure skating… each to their own, after all. He munched on his cookies and checked other platforms of social media for notifications. 

“… I guess you kinda figured that out but I like making music… umm. I like a lot of sports. I don’t know… Oh, I have a bike. Like, a motorbike, a black cruiser, I love it. Aaand what else. Gee, I um, I really don’t know what else to say. Umm, ask, maybe? Sorry, I’m so boring.” 

Yuri clicked back into the Twitch tab. A “donation” banner just materialized on the bottom of the screen: a nickname, and under that, - 1 USD. DarkHorse’s eyes wandered to another part of his monitor, and he read the message that apparently only he could see.

“Cantwaittobekingu, thanks, thank you buddy, ‘what is your favorite color’? Huh, umm… green? Yeah, I’d say green. NeveraShade, gee, stop, your support is overwhelming! ‘What other type of music do you like?’, well, I have nothing against classical music, aaand rock, rap, pop… Okay I could list them all, really, it depends on my mood. Hitchhiker61, thanks! ‘When did you start making music?’, three years ago but this is in my bio actually…” 

Yuri scrolled down on the page until he found his donation button. He knew you could send direct money with a message to streamers, he’d just never done it before. His grandpa tried very hard to raise him to be frugal, and he knew he had to be responsible for the sake of both of their future. He looked at the door as if he were waiting for some divine intervention, and when it didn’t arrive, he set up an account. He really just wanted to ask a few things, it wasn’t like he would send thousands. 

“… it just grows so fast. Of course you wouldn’t know, I fix it many times so it stays in control. Oh, IceTiger1, hello there and thank you! ‘What kind of sports do you like?’, I like watching hockey a lot, now let me tell you, some of my friends are hockey players, it kinda sucks when I can’t watch their matches in person, they are always sooo heartbroken about that – yes, I’m talking about you, Ulan – and um, hah, they always try to make me join them…” His eyes panned the chat for a few moments in silence. “Nah, but I’m too… chill for hockey, no, I just like watching it. Do you guys like ice hockey? This one time at a match there was this amazing keeper…”

Yuri smiled as DarkHorse began to tell the story of an epic clash between his favorite and his least favorite teams like a fairy tale. His voice was getting louder with excitement, he stopped fumbling with his hair-ends, growing more confident minute by minute, comfortable with the familiar topic. Yuri was a bit bitter about him getting so carried away that he didn’t mention other sports – ugh, just forget it, literally no one _that_ cool (come on, a biker DJ!) cares or will ever care about figure skating, stop hoping, gosh, he watches _hockey_ –, but somehow he felt good knowing that this random guy somewhere far away would become better at something for his audience. He couldn’t put his finger on why. 

“A room tour? Haha, uuuuuuuh, okay let’s say maybe. I won’t promise anything, but maybe someday. Bear with me, I would have to prepare for that. No, I don’t mean my room is a mess, I just… Pvn96, no, I’m not hiding dead bodies in here, get out! No I’m just kidding, actually, I’m the one who has to go...” 

He turned to yet another section of his own screen and typed something down, then started clicking.

“So I guess… don’t forget, every day from six till… seven? Yeah, sort of. So every morning I’ll be here and we’ll just have a nice discussion. You can suggest anything. You can suggest music too… for the next day, though, because I usually schedule it beforehand, sorry.”

Why was he apologizing? It was his channel, he could do whatever he wanted. Anyway. Faint music started playing.

“I’ll try to be more collected tomorrow, I promise. Oh right, I’ll create the forum and then you can write to me or to each other. And you don’t have to donate, well, you never had to, but, um, yeah. I’ll just. Stop talking, time to take off. It was nice talking to you today and… I don’t know, just uh, remember to… sing your own song. And… yeah. Bye.” 

Yuri shook his head in secondhand embarrassment. The song got louder as DarkHorse disappeared from the screen with a tiny smile, and the space themed background came back with the automatized song title displayed. The tune was pretty good but he just now realized how sleepy he was, so he closed the page. 

And then he quickly reopened it to save it as a bookmark. Only after that did he close his laptop and go back to bed, this time with his headphones off and in safety. 

 

*** 

 

The next day, a windy but clear afternoon, he went back to his training rink. He found out that some of DarkHorse’s own remixes aligned in rhythm to his running pace, some others were useful for sit-ups, and yet a few managed to turn his mind off and into such comfortable, meditative state that stretching was a new delight when he listened to them. He downloaded a boatload of titles from his Spotify. 

He was sitting on the floor in quite a wide split, leaning onto his right knee. He exhaled and made a mental note that, really, he hardly ever felt so calm without being actually focused on it. Concentration required effort, acting concentrated did so even more. But now, with nobody around, absentmindedly moving to the electric pulses, he was just feeling _good_.

Then he felt someone pull out one of his earbuds. 

“Hey!” he snapped, scowling. 

Viktor was crouching next to him; he held the earbud close to his stupid tilted face, keenly listening in on his newest favorite playlist. Well, he didn’t have to try too hard, Yuri had it on blasting volume. 

“Wow, that’s not metal!” Viktor beamed like a little kid who just found some chocolate. 

“No shit!” he reached for the earbud, demanding it back right away, but when the old man handed it to him, he didn’t put it back immediately. 

“Widening our scopes, are we?” 

“Pissing off, are _you_? What are you doing here anyway?” 

Viktor raised his hands in defense and stood up. 

“I just forgot I left my favorite running shoes here. I didn’t expect you to be training so soon.” 

He opened his usual locker and put the shoes in the sports bag he had apparently arrived with, which event Yuri obviously hadn’t heard.

“I’m not. I was bored. Now leave me alone.” 

“Okay, okay. Going. ” 

“Hey.” 

He received a slightly surprised look from Viktor when he reached out a hand, but he helped him get up from the floor without hesitation. 

“I forgot to say congrats. So.” He almost didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t want to be awkward now. “So congrats.” 

Viktor tried hard, but Yuri knew he really confounded him with that sentence this time, and he gloated on the inside. He gave the other skater credit for not pressing the issue, though. _If_ there was any issue with him being nice for a change. Better not be!

“Thank you, Yuri.” 

“It was still boring as hell.”

Viktor’s poker face broke and he laughed as he let go of his hand.

“I know. It’s time for me to go. Bye.” 

Yuri watched him leave, contemplating whether he meant more by that than just having stuff to do that day. Then he shrugged, restarted the song he hadn’t been appreciating enough, and whipped his skates out. 

 

*** 

 

“Hello there, hello there, this is DarkHorseofSamarqand, _man_ it is early, you guys, how is everyone? Hi, welcome.”

Yuri had been watching FarCry Primal instead of sleeping – again –, and Minx’s gameplay hadn’t ended yet, but his curiosity made him change the channel at 3 o’clock. The music was just dying down and there appeared the young man before the green screen with all his hair swept to one side like the previous day. He occasionally sipped on a mug – a different mug than the last time – that had an old school chopper on it. Hah, cool. 

“Wow, so many of you are here! Welcome. Oh, HamsterDoc… you didn’t have to! ‘Just so you know I had my friend po…” DarkHorse’s brows furrowed as he read on. “Pole dance to your music’, oh my, I… good for you, I guess?!” He laughed, a bit flustered and bewildered at the message next to the first donation of the day. “Amazing, please do _not_ tell me what else you do when you tune in…”

Yuri snickered, watching DarkHorse look down in embarrassment but smirking to himself nonetheless. He seemed more relaxed today, although he was still speaking very quietly all the time. Yuri still scrolled down and clicked the button.

“… it should work fine now. You can register with your Twitch name aaand you can also upvote the best comments, or the ones you want me to see. Go nuts, help each other, I would… like to avoid getting the same questions all the time… I’ve set up a few basic topics but you can request more if there’s a need. Oh, IceTiger1, hi there, ‘I was training to your music and it actually helped a lot’, wow, cool! Thanks, that’s… okay, that’s nice, you are welcome to tell me stuff like that. Just don’t go nasty, I won’t read that out loud. I would never hear the end of it.” 

He read out quite a bunch of stories that day, though, both from donation messages and the chat. Some people cooked, some cleaned, and some gardened to his tunes. Some found it great for writing their homework. Many were doing sports while listening to his channel, and many turned it up loud for house parties. The overwhelming wave of notifications kept the boy busy, and they slowly turned into a competition of which of his songs are the best and for what. 

“Guys, guys, stop, I know which ones your favorite are, okay?” DarkHorse chided without a single drop of hard feelings. His small smile was honest and restrained, his eyes constantly on the flow of the chat after the banner-flickering died down a little. “I can see the hit numbers on YouTube. Aw, thank you, though. Thanks, really. I appreciate it. Pvn96 thanks for the cheer! Raining? That must suck. Don’t get cold.” 

He got lost in the conversation with his followers. He was very responsive to their petty struggles for the day so he failed to pick any specific topic to discuss from the forum. 

“Yeah, I know, I don’t understand this snobbism either. All genres of music are… music, you know? You gotta love what you love, and let others be. … Show my bike? Oh, okay. Just one second. I’ll have to look for a picture.” 

While he was silent, Yuri hit up Instagram to reply something sassy to Viktor’s comment on his last selfie. He didn’t have enough time to think, though, because DarkHorse’s voice dragged him back in the Twitch tab. 

“There you go.” He displayed it full screen.

Yuri didn’t know that much about motorcycles, but that simple black cruiser really just looked… cool. How could it not? He imagined driving it and being the most badass kid on the streets. He imagined the sound of the engine ripping through lazy neighborhood afternoons.

“I got it for my last birthday.” He closed the picture and it was him live in front of the camera again. “Nnno, poteryalknyaz, I don’t go to school with it… I don’t know, it would be like showing off. I don’t want that. But I like taking trips with it. Driving kind of calms me down when I’m anxious. Has anyone here ever felt like that? Mhm, yeah, barbariantheconan, I thought the same…” 

Five USD. Hmm. 

“… nice talking to you, I think I’m getting the hang of this now. But, oh, damn, I shouldn’t run late. Time to take off, _but_ IceTiger1, just in time, thanks for the subscription! Sing your own song, all of you. Bye!” 

A small thrill ran through him as his nickname got to be one of the last things DarkHorse said in front of three thousand online viewers before he waved and turned the face cam off, restarting the music broadcast again. Yuri hummed to himself, then went to bed for at least a couple of hours. 

 

*** 

 

He soon found himself setting an alarm for 3 AM every day when he didn’t stay up. He sometimes sat up in his bed with his laptop in front of him, but sometimes just hit the app on his phone and watched DarkHorse talk, lying on his side when he felt too tired. 

He listened – and sometimes dozed off for a while until a laughter or a louder word brought him back from his dreams – as the older boy talked about practically anything. The typical food to find in different regions of his country (that was how Yuri’s suspicion was confirmed that he was Kazakh), the newest iPhone (and how he probably couldn’t buy it), flowers he would pick for a girl (but no, don’t ask him for dating advice, he was the worst source on that, please no), video games (Yuri always donated and asked a lot of questions on that topic, excited every single time the guy read out his username and smiled at his snappy comments), new bands he found, his favorite pen to write with, tv shows to watch (he accepted recommendations, while always asking everyone not to hate on this or that series), the weather, childhood mischiefs with his friends, stories of what he discovered on a weekend’s bike ride… Anything and everything, slowly learning to articulate better, always saying goodbye with sing your own song. Yuri liked hearing it. Yeah, he would do his own thing, he was always keen on not giving a damn about anybody except his grandpa.

A few weeks passed like that, and then he missed two of his morning streams when he had to travel all the way to Japan to find that utter idiot who had promised him his next choreography. On top of everything he was pissed about, that didn’t help lifting his mood either. He demanded his training hours be set after ten in the morning, because he wasn’t about to just not hear DarkHorse’s opinion on the new Marvel movie for weeks, and because in Japan his 6 AM meant their 9. Viktor didn’t argue, which was a good thing, because if he did, Yuri would for sure have felt like kicking him in the shin. 

 

*** 

 

“Hello there, hello there, this is DarkHorseofSamarqand and…” He let out a huff of laughter, and looked at his name – _his_ name! – with what Yuri could have sworn was a warm smile. “And the first donation of the day is, again, from IceTiger1, ‘for coffee’, hah, thank you, buddy,” he raised his mug – the chopper mug – and drank, as if a toast dedicated to him. “Joke’s on me, I really have run out of it with this last dose, so thanks for reminding me it’s shopping time later today…" 

His untamable mane was all swept to one side as usual. He tucked some of the thickest strands behind the one ear they covered – they couldn’t possibly all fit – and licked a drop of coffee from his lips. Yuri’s stomach flipped and he had no idea why. 

Oh, right. Later that day for him meant no shopping, but the Hot Springs skate-off. He sighed and devoured his breakfast in front of his screen, hoping that DarkHorse’s voice would calm him down. He needed it more than he cared to admit. 

“Aw, get well soon, everybody who’s sick.” He sent down his remaining drink and cleared his throat. “Now, listen, guys, today’s morning stream has to be a little bit shorter…”

What?! Now!? Unbelievable.

“… because I have a train to catch, _buuut_ this morning we’ll have a little unboxing, you ready?” DarkHorse held a little dramatic pause and then leaned down and raised a box from the floor. It was a new quality headphone. Like, _real_ quality, Yuri could see.

“This ‘little thing’ is here thanks to you. You and your subscriptions and donations and cheers… You know you don’t even need to do that, but if you do, I would only spend the money I get from you on improving my setup to make better music. So this was the first thing I got… no, the first thing that _arrived_ by post, just yesterday, but it’s not the last, and you have to know I’m so grateful that you’re all here, supporting me, motivating me, um…” He spread his arms and shook his head in disbelief. “Just… thank you. Okay, I did say unboxing…” 

Yuri grinned as he typed in the message with his next donation. 

 

*** 

 

“Hello there, hello there, this is DarkHorseofSamarqand again, how are you on this beautiful morning? How is everyone, hi, you’re very lively today. Hey, IceTiger1 is back, yes! I noticed you missed a day,” Over the rim of his mug, DarkHorse looked into the camera, but it felt like he was looking into Yuri’s soul. He was jokingly chiding him, but he only managed to furrow his black brows for a moment, then his face smoothed into a calm little smile as he turned all his attention to the little banner. “I hope nothing bad happened! ’I messed up at a competition that’s how I am’ … aw _daaamn_ , man, ‘so I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on Dark Souls 3.’ IceTiger1.” He looked back at the camera, real earnest this time. “I’m sorry, pal, I hope there’s a next time, there’s always a next time. Just… sit down and rest for a moment, okay? That always helps me. Then you’ll get up and move on. I know you will, you are the _ice tiger_ , you will kick butt, I’m sure of it. Dark Souls, you said?”

And that’s how the topic of the day was video games again – not that anyone was surprised, it happened many times and a lot of gamers listened to DarkHorse’s music while playing. 

Yuri was grateful for the distraction from the storm of frustrated resentment towards _those idiots_ in his mind, but after the first few minutes of the DJ’s analytic musing his thoughts drifted back to the advice. 

Of course he would get what he wanted, he _was_ the Ice Tiger of Russia, of course he would kick ass. That didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling abandoned. Betrayed by Stupid Viktor Nikiforov, taken for a fool. He leaves the ice but not to be his coach! Damn him and his pathetic protégé! He knew he was better than the other Yuuri and he would show it to the whole world. From tomorrow, he would take practice seriously and Viktor and the pig could get bent. 

“… time to take off now. But IceTiger1?” Yuri gasped, snapping out of his angry fantasies. “If you’re still here, I expect you to come tomorrow and tell me how you are! And anyone who’s struggling with something: you know what I always say, and I don’t just say it, I mean it every day. Sing your own song. Bye.” 

Yuri sighed and leaned back on his bed. He had slept all afternoon and woken up at 2 AM, so he wasn’t sleepy yet. He switched to Minx and watched as they attempted to defeat the Nameless King, until the sun came up and he heard his grandpa shuffling around. 

He had just finished making breakfast as Yuri stepped into the kitchen. 

“Yuratchka! Good morning.” 

He just nodded, and his grandpa understood. He never really felt like speaking so early, but he was especially quiet since his miserable defeat at Hasetsu. He sat down and silently dug in the huge sandwich waiting for him. 

Hardly a minute later he caught that characteristic, bitter scent that was always part of the mornings here at home, he’d just never cared for it much before. Before… seeing a mug or a cup in DarkHorse’s hands every day. 

“Um… Grandpa, can I try some too?” 

Nikolai turned to him with a raised eyebrow, though smiling.

“What, coffee? You’ve got a taste for it?”

Yuri gave a little shrug, almost as a defensive motion. He couldn’t stop himself from looking up very innocently, as if he did something wrong but tried to hide it. He simply didn’t want to explain his newfound enthusiasm for the drink, but his grandpa already took another cup off the shelf. 

“Alright, why not. I’ll make it a light one, though, okay? One sugar.” 

“Mhm.” 

Nikolai put his own sandwich down across from Yuri’s, then poured the coffee and brought the cups to the table too. They ate in silence; Yuri only reached for the cup after he cleared his plate, and took a sip. 

It was… strange. Not that bad, but still too bitter compared to anything he’d been used to. 

“Some milk, maybe?”, his grandpa winked at him. 

He got the box from the fridge and poured some in his cup, sticking his tongue out as he aimed. Then he tried it again, and he decided he really liked how it tasted now. 

His grandpa smiled, pleased at the sight of his content face, then ruffled his hair.

“I will go to the store now, Yuratchka. Do you want to come? To take your mind off of things a bit?” 

He enjoyed the last sip of this revelation that was coffee and determination dripped into each of his bones with it. He had sat down. He had rested. Time to get up and move on. 

“No, I… I have to pack for Lilia’s. Thank you for breakfast!” 

 

*** 

 

“Hello there, hello there, this is DarkHorseofSamarqand, aaaaand if I’m not mistaken, just in a few seconds… yyyes, IceTiger1, good morning, I still don’t know how you time your donations so well… ‘Summer school sucks but your music still doesn’t, cheers’, thank you, thank you, yeah, I can relate, I used to go a lot too… But I managed to graduate a few weeks ago, sooo that hell is officially over for me!” Realizing he might have sounded too cheerful about his own miseries having ended and not being helpful at all, DarkHorse put down his coffee mug – the chopper mug – and cleared his throat. “But you and everyone who’s studying: soldier on! Should we make it today’s topic? I mean I know you probably all hate it, but share some stories, maybe it’ll be easier to talk it out amongst each other…” 

Yuri couldn’t say much about his homeschooling, but he did hit up his notepad and started doing his math homework. Eeeveryone kept telling him how important education was because skating wouldn’t last a lifetime… Fine, then. If DarkHorse had done it while DJ-ing, he could do it while figure skating, right? He was not stupid, after all. 

He took the self-initiated challenge to solve the tasks before the end of the livestream, and it soon became a habit that he finished his assignments while listening to the streamer. He would occasionally zone out, focused on a book or his notes, but he would look up from time to time to see what DarkHorse was laughing at, or why he was frowning while he silently read something. 

Sometimes he didn’t go back to sleep right away, the first tracks of the music broadcast proving too interesting to miss. Some days he caught the surprise in Yakov’s eyes at why he was such an easy teenager these days, practicing so diligently, being praised by his teacher, going to bed considerably early every night (well, they had no clue about his 3–4 AM activities) – but he didn’t press the issue, he was just glad he complied better than Viktor had at his age. 

His grandpa visited him often, and kept supporting him. After several particularly calm _and_ busy afternoons when he came over and they baked pirozhki together, and which days turned into little get-togethers with all his Russian rink mates, Yuri found incorporating that love in his Agape performance less difficult each time. But that particular last sentence started bothering him after learning the moves to Allegro Appassionato. 

“You again?”, DarkHorse smiled; Yuri munched on the first pirozhok he had made all by himself, uneasily waiting for his answer. “’What if I don’t know my own song?’ Um… I’m sure you do?” The streamer seemed to sink real deep in his thoughts, staring at the void in front of him. He talked slowly, as if he was struggling to phrase it just right, not to give bad advice, and his voice was deep and serious. “I mean… hmm. Even if… others, or life doesn’t let you right now… I’m sure you know what you want. I don’t know what exactly you meant by this, but… There will come a time when you can express yourself fully, truly, and… and someone will listen. So… so don’t lose hope, not you, not anybody. I, uh… I’m not sure if this helped at all but… Yeah, those are my thoughts. Oops, aaand it’s time to take off now. You know what’s coming, yes: 

Sing your own song.”

 

*** 

 

October came, and Yuri wanted to kick something. Why hadn’t they assigned him to Skate America! DarkHorse was streaming – in potato quality, from his mobile, but still – from goddamned Chicago of all places, the day before the competition! _Un. be. lie. va. ble_. They could have met there. Yuri could hardly believe it himself, but despite their conversations being somewhat one sided with the streamer talking to thousands of people at once, not just him, and him writing small messages, which were all public (and sometimes even misunderstood, since voiceless), he felt like the online phenomena was somehow close to him. He had to admit to himself that he imagined the two of them being friends, and meeting in person someday. Well, not that day, that was painfully obvious now. 

DarkHorse was on and off fascinated by the huge western city and apologetic about the music broadcast being on pause. Yuri wished him a safe trip with a small donation. He didn’t tell him he would miss a few streams next week, to sleep and train and sleep and train (and compete), and he did all that – only to lose the gold to Jean fucking Jacques Leroy in Canada. Seriously, fuck that guy with his ridiculous undercut. DarkHorse’s was so much cooler. 

 

*** 

 

“Hello there, hello there, this DarkHorseofSamarqand and _holy ssshoot_ somebody’s angry with me…” His cheeks seemed flushed. Yuri’s were, too, though, so he watched with angry satisfaction as the other boy looked down in embarrassment, his hair momentarily concealing more of his face than usual, and scratched his uncovered ear. “’Where the f…… hell have you been?’, I’m so sorry IceTiger1… and everyone… I thought I could stream one last time before I traveled to Japan but my computer crashed, I had no time to fix it, and then I accidentally slept in, and the day passed, and I had to go and then I was so busy and I’m…” 

Yuri couldn’t lie to himself: his anger was dissolved the minute he saw the familiar face again. He had sent the message and the donation with a huge sigh of relief, and was now shaking his head at DarkHorse’s apologies. This was the fifth day he had gotten up at the unearthly hour in hope that the stream would come live again, but there had been absolute radio silence from Kazakhstan. The chatroom had been going crazy – he almost did, too – and then mournfully silent. He had been fearing the worst, and when Mila had messaged him if he was going to watch the NHK Trophy with them, he had suggested her to flush herself down the toilet. But DarkHorse had just been… traveling. He wished he could see him rolling his eyes. Amazing.

The topic of the day shifted to countries people have visited and their sightseeing habits, but Yuri couldn’t care less. He was so relieved, hearing that voice almost made him fall back asleep again. As the worry lifted off his shoulders, and the heavy iron chains let go of his chest, his confidence in winning the Rostelecom Cup slowly poured back into his veins. 

He knew he should have had a good night’s sleep, but he had to get up and listen to DarkHorse the morning before the competition. He just had to. For courage. 

“… but, come on, don’t beat your siblings. That’s not nice. Tell them it’s not nice. Okay, now, I have to go for the day, but just a small announcement, to avoid what happened the last time, ehm, I would like you to note in much advance that two weeks from now, I won’t be streaming for a few days, again. This time I’m going to Barcelona.”

WHAT! 

“That will be… a literal time to take off. Terrible joke, sorry. So have a nice day everybody, sing your own song!” 

Barcelona?! Two weeks from now?! He gasped at the arisen chance to meet DarkHorse. He could tell him how much he liked his music, they could talk about the new DLC in his favorite game… 

Oh wait. Wait… shit… he had to qualify for the Grand Prix Final first. 

Shit, he _had_ to make it to Barcelona! 

 

*** 

 

That same thought played in his head on repeat when he flubbed his triple Axel.

He just wasn’t entirely there in his head. Firstly, his grandpa was too sick to come. Secondly… something bugged him that shouldn’t have, something that was such a thin chance that it was irrational to hope for. Even if he qualified for the Final, Barcelona was too big to find one particular DJ… And Jean Joke Leroy and the other two idiots were still so annoying! It was just too much, and he underscored Katsudon. 

He needed something desperately to bring his focus back. 

“Hello there, hello there, this is DarkHorseofSamarqand, as always, good morning, and as always, hello IceTiger1! ‘Tell me something cool that gives me confidence’ … Oh.” DarkHorse cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “How about… how about I send you a new remix? I finished it just yesterday. Everyone, brace yourselves, we’re going to listen to it now for the sake of my biggest fan, this is an early premiere, okay? Okay. Here goes nothing.” 

He had [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUV2sRIcnqw) on repeat for hours. His grandpa brought him katsudon-pirozhki.

He nailed his free skate. Stronger and more beautiful than ever. 

He didn’t care about JJ anymore. He was going to Barcelona! He didn’t show it to the world, but happiness was bubbling in his chest because of that. He even shared some katsudon-pirozhki with the other Pork Cutlet Bowl, he was so tired to see the sour expression on his face. 

 

*** 

 

He could barely sit still on the plane to Spain. 

The others thought he was restless just because he was a teenager athlete headed to the biggest event of his career – and his entire life –, but he wanted to get there as fast as possible because he had a mission. 

Two days earlier he had been sitting in his room, streaming DarkHorse again for the last time before their trip, contemplating whether he should do it or not. His cursor had been hovering over the button. It had been a fool’s hope, but he had clicked it. 

“No, blackknight8, I don’t think so. What if she likes a girl? Just saying. IceTiger1! Thanks, I was wondering where you were! ‘Not public’, oh, alright.”

He had watched his face closely as he had read his message in silence. The black brows had furrowed again.

“Is that what I think it is?” 

DarkHorse had looked into the camera as if he could search for the person behind it, biting his lower lip. As if he could figure out the reason anybody would send him an address and a date. Yuri had done just that, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. 

The boy had shrugged, and Yuri could have sworn his little smile was almost mischievous. What he had said next had made Yuri’s mind fly right to Barcelona without the plane.

“Okay. I’ll be there.” 

 

*** 

 

When they finally got to the hotel and Yakov tried to make him check in, he told him off. When his stupid fans gathered around him to take pictures, all he wanted to do was yell at them. But what really made him snap was Jean Joke Leroy and his stupid girlfriend. He couldn’t possibly bear any more distraction, especially if it was for absolute nonsense. 

“Any guy who wears sunglasses on his head like that is a douche! You can do better than him, bitch!” 

“Hey now, easy, we’re all friends here, aren’t we?” JJ looked for a way out of Yuri’s rage. Good. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to find… “Otabek! Going out?”

The guy he shouted at turned around slowly. His face was expressionless, his black hair was up in a bun, showing his undercut. His brows were dark and his voice was just too familiar. 

“Just getting some food.” 

“Going out to eat alone? Still as odd as ever, aren’t you? You can join us for dinner if you want!”

“Thanks, I’ll pass.” 

DarkHorse looked at Yuri, probably in wonder why he was staring with his mouth open, before he walked out into the evening. 

 

*** 

 

Otabek Altin. The figure skater. A DJ. A biker. And _that_ Twitch streamer. 

What was happening?! 

He watched him in the finalists’ private practice the next day and he still couldn’t believe his own eyes. It was definitely the same person, but _how. How_?! He had to use all his might to act like he was just annoyed by JJ, so as to conceal how baffled he was at Da… at Otabek. Yeah, this wasn’t DarkHorse at all.

This guy was stoic and completely closed off before other people. He never smiled and never let his hair down, either. He focused on going over his routine, speechless and precise. But he _was_ the Dark Horse of Samarqand: Yuri had looked him up the night of their arrival, and he found out Otabek was half Kazakh, half Uzbek, hence the place name; and sometimes he was mentioned in magazines and online news by his notorious nickname, which he obviously owned up very proudly. Yuri wasn’t star struck, he was just dumbfounded. Utterly and completely flabbergasted.

Yakov had to yank him back to reality, but this practice session might have been titled as the worst of his life. His mind was all over the place – well, okay, in one particular place, actually, but it was not on the ice, especially after watching Otabek leave for the day. Although with worry, his coach soon realized this was leading nowhere, and he let him go. 

Practice having been a disaster, he just wanted to walk the streets of Spain listening to some of DarkHorse’s music in peace, but even that plan turned to dust; his fans sneaked up on him, so he had to take his earphones off to hear where they were, and hide in narrow alleys to avoid them. 

So much for winning senior gold in his debut year, he thought to himself with a deep sigh in the shadows. How could he win now with his head so fucked up? He was confused, annoyed, confused, unsettled, confused, and disappointed… in himself. Idiot, why couldn’t you just say hi?! He was just another teenager. He was DarkHorse, the DJ, the cool guy giving advice to him when he had been sad, mad, or simply lost, the streamer whose remixes he had such fun exercising to, the boy who was kind to faceless, nameless people from all over the world. But he was also… Otabek Altin, an antisocial _opponent_ , who just looked stern and said nothing. _How?!_ How could he walk up to him and say ‘Hi, I’m IceTiger1, your fan, your friend! Why are you so fucking different in person!!!’ 

From his miserable thoughts, the sound of a roaring engine dragged him back. The black cruiser stopped right in front of him.

“Yuri! Get on.” 

He scoffed and stared in disbelief. The small smile he had seen so many times was back on DarkHorse’s face, his eyes as lively as ever when he was in front of the camera. He threw him a helmet and tilted his head.

“Are you coming or not?” 

Of course Yuri did. 

Although he wasn’t the one at the wheel, riding a bike was just as fun as he had imagined long ago, when DarkHorse had shown a picture of it to his audience. The wind ripped into his hair and coat, the buildings rushed away next to them, blurring into splashes of color, and when Otabek sped up even more, Yuri couldn’t stop himself from letting out a cheerful ‘ _woohooo_ ’. 

When they stopped at Park Güell, he gave the helmet back so Otabek could put it away, then took a deep breath.

“Okay, I demand you tell me now. Are you DarkHorseofSamarqand?” 

He already knew the answer, he just wanted somewhere to tie his following questions from there. Otabek glanced down, let out a small huff of laughter, then back up at him. 

“Yeah, I am. You watch my channel?”

“Yeah, I do! How on earth did you never mention anywhere that you were also skating?!” 

“On Twitch, I’m a DJ. That’s what matters. Those who have found out so far didn’t really care. I…”

His eyes suddenly widened and shot back down to the middle of Yuri’s shirt; his breath hitched, and then he hit his own face with his palm so hard that Yuri flinched. 

“ _Ice… Tiger… 1_ …”, Otabek moaned from under his hand. “Oh my god, seriously?” 

“Yep, that’s me…” 

“I never, ever put two and two together! Oh my god…” 

Now it was Otabek’s turn to stare at him in complete disbelief. Yuri didn’t quite understand. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I mean, I know you! Five years ago we trained together at Yakov’s summer camp! In the novice class. Even back then you wore animal-print all the time. And, you know, ice, _duh_?! I could have figured it out sooner…” 

"Well... I could also have watched Skate America or the NHK Trophy..." 

They watched the sunset for a few moments, standing silently at the low wall, looking over the city. Something was still eating at Yuri on the inside.

“Otabek, I don’t get why you’re so friendly with me when…” 

“Oh, that thing with JJ? I always act like that when he’s around, it annoys him so much!” DarkHorse… Otabek laughed, and it slightly mesmerized Yuri to hear that in person. “And, well, yeah, I’m not that good with people in real life. It’s easier through the lens…” The older boy turned to face him with his mouth slowly curling upwards. “But you… I know you. I’ve been talking to IceTiger1 for… eight months! So are we friends or not?” 

Yuri felt like an idiot standing there with his jaw dropped. He had to do something; he stepped forward and flung his arms around Otabek’s waist. He felt the hug being returned, and before he knew it, the words had rolled off his tongue.

“Can we be more…?” 

Otabek put his hands on his shoulders to push him away, and he thought this was the end, he was done for. His face was as red as it has never been before; he kept his eyes squeezed shut and his head bowed. But Otabek slid his hands down along his arms and when he reached his fingers, he laced them together with his own. 

“Yes, why not? Would you like to drink something with me?” 

Yuri looked up at him so fast that all his hair flew away from before his face. 

He smiled and nodded; when they got back on the bike, he hugged the figure skater DJ tightly from behind. He didn’t realize it just then, but of course he was destined to win the Grand Prix Final: Altin was his, and Altin means gold in Kazakh.

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: match the tagged characters with the usernames I created :D
> 
> Update: I drew my own fanart for this  
> [here](http://rhaegarion.tumblr.com/post/158440929653/i-saw-a-man-so-beautiful-i-took-the-opportunity-to) and [here](http://rhaegarion.tumblr.com/post/158443510963/he-tucked-some-of-the-thickest-strands-behind-the)  
> oh well


End file.
